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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25118176">How deep is your love?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deeambles/pseuds/Deeambles'>Deeambles</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Man is such a fool (why are we saving him?) [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Naruto</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, GedoMazou!Hashirama, Gen, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, edo tensei! Mito, extras and requests, rated M for part of ch.2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 08:41:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,337</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25118176</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deeambles/pseuds/Deeambles</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“I will destroy you,” Madara says around rice and beef. Someone else, someone normal, may have remarked about the weather, “you, and everything you’ve ever cared for.” </p><p>Tobirama pauses, fiddles with his chopsticks and wonders.... </p><p>“You do realize that includes you, right?”<br/>------<br/>Short extras and requests from the main story. Some can be read without knowledge of it.<br/>1. in village madatobi<br/>2. Madara and his fantasies about after victory madatobi<br/>3. Hashirama waking in the Gedo Mazou<br/>4. Edo tensei! Mito (chunnin exam revival)<br/>5. deleted ending &amp; bonus short scene</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Senju Hashirama &amp; Juubi | Ten-tails (Naruto), Senju Hashirama/Uzumaki Mito, Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Madara</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Man is such a fool (why are we saving him?) [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1322771</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>204</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Like the ocean, I'm full of devotion</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>ChimericColoratura requested (1/3): Mostly just in village MadaTobi,</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*slams hands down* last!! installment!! last!!! installment!!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I hate you” Madara seethes, hair laying behind him like a war banner, black and dangerous. </p><p>“Yes,” Tobirama agrees, “I already know that, and so do you.” </p><p>Izuna is not a person standing between them anymore, he’s an ideal, a legacy, a ghost, a reminder. </p><p>Izuna is a shadow in the dark with red glowing eyes; He’s not a person, his name has been twisted and changed too much for that. </p><p>Madara scoffs, “I don’t know why I come back.” He says honestly, and really, Tobirama doesn’t know either. </p><p>They’re in his house, Madara sitting at the kitchen counter like a dog begging for scraps. Tobirama is working the stove, like a peasant cooking for a master. </p><p>“Then leave.” Tobirama says flatly</p><p>“No” Madara sneers back, though he’s not looking at him, so Tobirama spares a second to follow the older man’s line of sight. </p><p>Ah, Tobirama notes, his sword is hanging on the wall above one of the more organized bookshelves of his. </p><p>He wonders if Madara sees blood on it still. </p><p>“Not cleaned to your liking?” Tobirama scoffs, eyes focusing back to the food. The weight of Madara’s gaze is heavy on his back and he can feel the older man’s chakra crackle darkly. </p><p>How is it Hashirama has missed this man change? </p><p>(He hasn’t, but he is hopeful and Tobirama dreads whatever will break that. He selfishly hopes it’s himself, so he can control the downfall. If it’s Madara... well, Madara would probably break him in a way that Tobirama nor Mito would be able to fix. It’s sad, but Tobirama has always privately thought their souls must have known each other in a past life for all the nonsense they stick themselves and everyone else through) </p><p>“What’s that Senju? Are you asking for my teachings?” </p><p>Tobirama rolls his eyes, though he knows Madara can’t see it, “hardly, the blade is clean.” </p><p>“Is it.” Madara says flatly. A rhetorical question if Tobirama has ever heard one. </p><p>Regardless he replies, “Of course. Do you think I’m sloppy?” </p><p>Madara’s the one to scoff this time, “oh never Senju, your too smart for that. Sometimes I wonder though.” </p><p>Tobirama waits for the follow up and when there is none, he turns around to see what his unlikely companion is doing. </p><p>Madara, for all that he probably knows he’s a contradictory asshole, is staring right back. </p><p>“Wonder what?” Tobirama asks, breaking the stalemate. </p><p>“I wonder what’d he’d think.” </p><p>“Izuna?” Tobirama asks ruthlessly. He can practically see the short knife that wedges into Madara’s heart when he says his old rivals name. </p><p>(He pretends he’s doesn’t feel the regret that hurts his. Not regret for killing Izuna, just regret that Madara has turned into this and they all suffer for it.) </p><p>“Or Hashirama?” He finishes. That one to soften the blow, and he practically sees Madara’s anger morph into something else. </p><p>“Don’t say his name, Tobirama.” </p><p>“Hashirama?” Tobirama asks, purposely obtuse, “so I can’t talk about my own brother in your presence, your highness?” </p><p>The chair Madara’s sitting in hits the ground when he stands, and the man honestly growls, “listen, Senju—”</p><p>Honestly, Tobirama thinks, he’s taller, standing gets the Uchiha nowhere. </p><p>“Listening.” Tobirama mocks</p><p>“— if Hashirama was the one to die—“ </p><p>“Then you wouldn’t be standing in my house!” Tobirama interrupts harshly and Madara seethes, but his mouth clamps shut. </p><p>At the end of the day, Tobirama killed Izuna yes, but it’s Madara that continues to acknowledge Tobirama’s existence. </p><p>(He can’t say that it’s Madara that continues to seek Tobirama out. That’s not true, not fully true anyways. They are both broken, products of their times, and Tobirama can’t wait to officially be considered outdated. The day he doesn’t have to pick up the sword on his wall will be glorious. </p><p>Though, Tobirama admits to himself, it probably won’t ever be like that, really. Not for men like them.) </p><p>“I hate you, Tobirama.” Madara says, picking the chair back up and sitting down to leach off of Tobirama’s generosity. </p><p>“Yes, I know.” Tobirama responds with, knowing where this going. </p><p>“I will destroy you,” Madara says around rice and beef. Someone else, someone normal, may have remarked about the weather, “you, and everything you’ve ever cared for.” </p><p>Tobirama pauses, fiddles with his chopsticks and wonders.... </p><p>“You do realize that includes you, right?” </p><p>Madara glances up, dark eyes piercing Tobirama where he stands.</p><p>“Oh Senju,” Madara laughs, “I’m counting on it.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>a deleted line that didn't quite fit, "This is the closest they'll ever say to 'I love you', Tobirama realizes numbly."</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. My God is gonna owe me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>ChimericColoratura requested (2/3): maybe some of Madara’s fantasies about after victory MadaTobi.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This one bumped the rating a bit. It is definitely M if not E for dream/ section 3. madara's thought/dream things are all the italicized sections so if smut isn't your thing rn when you reach the third one just scroll on down to the last paragraph.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Madara remembers the scathing commentary, the snide remarks, the cold flashes of a hot temper. </p><p>Tobirama is, and was, a goal to Madara. Someone he needed to kill. Someone he wanted to love. Someone who wasn’t stronger than him but knew how to push buttons, Madara’s buttons, until Madara was fuming so bad it didn’t matter that Tobirama wasn’t physically as strong as him, or didn’t have the chakra loads that he and Hashirama had, he could still <em>win. </em></p><p>Madara doesn’t glance down at the statue, doesn’t try to feel for the chakra in the way he knows must be there. </p><p>(It thrums beneath his feet regardless)</p><p>“We’ve got to be the only species that fights for peace,” Obito scoffs quietly</p><p>Madara just hums an agreement. He knows how this one will go. Obito is a good little successor but too caught up in his feelings. Madara had to seal his heart just to make sure those didn’t get in the way. If he remarks on some of Obito’s comments it’ll just start a fight, and he’s preoccupied at the moment. </p><p>It’s the same reason he doesn’t roll his eyes when Obito starts arguing with the blonde kid down below again, though he’s sure his silence is judgmental enough. Instead he lets his gaze raise up. Anytime now, he thinks, the stupid sage will come and that will be a problem. </p><p>Then again, he had thought Tobirama would have been a problem but— </p><p><em>“How” </em>Tobirama had asked and Madara knew he had him then. Tobirama has never turned away from the darker parts of science and his curiosity. Hell, Madara knows his own body was the Senju’s experiment for a while. When Madara had heard after, he broke down into laughter because <em>of course</em>, he wouldn’t be an exception. </p><p>Regardless, he’ll admit he was still surprised at how easy it was to grab him. Though he shouldn’t really, his memories of Tobirama when he was in Konoha all those years ago are faded and twisted. Madara’s dreams, however, well they’ve always been selfish and overpowering, haven’t they?  </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“Madara,” Tobirama says softly</em>
</p><p>
  <em>They’re in Madara’s house, and Tobirama is sitting at his desk, eyes roaming over some seal or another. Izuna is sitting by the hearth, poking at it with a rod. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yes?” Madara asks. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He’s at the counter, idling pruning a plant that has mysteriously appeared in his possession. Again. The side effects of having a living tree for his best friend. </em>
</p><p><em>“I love you” Tobirama says easily. Says it like it’s nothing, like it’s everything, like it’s something he can say and that’s fine, okay,</em>fantastic <em>even. </em></p><p>
  <em>Madara looks up from the little bonsai, smiling at his husband. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>They ignore Izuna’s gaging in the background, theatrical brat, for smiling softly at each other. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I love you too.” Madara says back. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>It’s a good thought, if unrealistic, Madara thinks, gaze lowering to the horizon. </p><p>Though he would prefer his dreams to be something more like; </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“Hey,” Tobirama says sharply, a million ideas flashing in his eyes. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Hi?” Madara responds curiously. He eyes the ink stained hands of his lover and the way his curly hair is more frizzy then it should be, “is everything—“ </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Fine,” Tobirama snaps, “now hold this.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Madara does, eyeing the little glowing orb in his hands with interest, “What is it?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Tobirama doesn’t answer right away and Madara rolls his eyes, waving a hand at Izuna where his little brother is outside herding some children through the snow to Hikaku’s house.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Izuna waves back, and winks, no doubt about to go leach hot chocolate from their cousin, cheeky thing. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Feed chakra into it.” Tobirama says after another minute </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Madara raises a brow </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Tobirama sighs, “it has healing properties. They flow through chakra networks, accomplish what humans can’t, then you’re magically healed.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Madara blinks, realizing his lover must be exceptionally annoyed if he’s forgoing any actual description of what it is and how it works. He doesn’t point this out though, instead pointing out, “I have no injury.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Tobirama is the one to raise a brow this time. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Is that not a cut on your forearm? I know you and Anija sparred earlier today.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Madara doesn’t glance down at the bandages, or let Tobirama know he won that round, focusing onto the orb. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>A little chakra, funneled into his the palm of his hand and—-</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Tobirama is unraveling the bandages on his arm, his fingers brushing against skin every so often. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It’s gone.” Madara says, nothing short of amazed. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Is that all?” Tobirama mocks, his voice cocky and sure. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Madara glances up to snipe back, his compliments aren’t freely given after all, but he freezes. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Red eyes stare him down, white eyelashes curling delicately. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He has freckles, Madara notices immediately, and his eyes are darker than he’d originally thought. More auburn really, then the red he’s so often categorized them as.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I... I can see.” Madara says dumbly. That shouldn’t be though, he and Izuna, they haven’t— </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Tobirama grins and it’s smug to the highest degree, “Happy birthday, Madara.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Ash floats down from the sky, smearing on Madara’s cheek. He closes his eyes, and thinks about what he could do after. What him and Tobirama could be in the pure lands, what they might be in tsukuyomi. What they could have been in this life, had things gone differently. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Tobirama gasps, head thrown back, throat bobbing enticingly. Madara has never been able to resist him, any part of him, and he leans forward to put his mouth on Tobirama’s openly offered neck. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Tobirama may technically be bottoming for all he’s in Madara’s lap, but Madara has no doubt about who’s in charge here. </em>
</p><p><em>This, like everything else with them, is a fight. Madara’s a good fighter, but Tobirama is a </em>strategist. <em></em></p><p>
  <em>He rolls his hips, clenching down on Madara’s cock and lifting up. It doesn’t matter how many bruises he sticks on Tobirama’s hips, the Senju always wins when he’s like this. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He’s two weeks into a research bender, some new medical discovery that Hashirama approved with only a token protest followed by a wave of his hand. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>(And isn’t that funny. How people think Hashirama and his morals get in the way. Nobody’s that good really, not men from their generation. Hashirama will sacrifice whatever it takes for his precious people, Madara has found. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>They are still alike in that way, him and Madara) </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Tobirama breathes out rough, seating himself back down and It’s Madara’s turn to gasp. Tobirama wraps skilled hands into thick wavy hair and drags his nails across Madara’s scalp until the older man is practically ready to beg. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Fuck but Madara’s scalp is sensitive, and Tobirama just grins (the damn bastard) all rakish and devious where Madara catches glimpses of him behind his fluttering eyelids. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Devil,” Madara breathes out roughly, his left hand running up Tobirama’s back scratching along old scars that make Tobirama’s grin falter and his face twitch. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>It is a thing of beauty, exploiting his weak spots. His mouth drops a little and his eyes become unfocused. His breath goes from short even breaths to hitches that sound more like a drowning man. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Tobirama wins these fights, yes, but that certainly doesn’t mean Madara doesn’t try. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Bastard.” Tobirama gasps, clenching down hard in retaliation. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Madara grunts, “I could say the same about you.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Tobirama and his stupidly muscled everything, Sage he’s going to kill Madara. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>But damn, what a way to go. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Tobirama lets out a breath that’s definitely too amused to be anything but a laugh. Madara cups the back of his neck and yanks down in retaliation. The kiss is hot and fierce and a battle for dominance just like everything else. </em>
</p><p><em>Madara wins this one, right up until Tobirama untangles his hands from Madara’s hair enough to</em> yank <em>and Madara is making a guttural sound that Tobirama rides straight out of him. His lips on Madara’s lower neck, his left hand holding his head bared while his right palms heavy over ribs. </em></p><p>
  <em>Madara’s done for after that, his eyes rolling back behind his lids, and he’s coming inside Tobirama like some unprepared teenager. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Tobirama for all that he has Madara wrapped around his finger doesn’t let up even after Madara starts jerking, jaw gaping open from overstimulation. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Even after his eyes scrunch and he’s digging short nails into Tobirama’s lower back, all the bastard does is chuckle as he rides to his own pleasure. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Madara thankfully gets enough leeway in his own pleasure to grab Tobirama’s dick and jerk him the rest of the way. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>If it’s rough and he purposely misses some of the tricks he knows would have Tobirama coming immediately, well, the bastard shouldn’t have played dirty to start with. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Tobirama comes anyways, and he’s gorgeous wrapped around Madara’s cock, in his lap and a complete moaning mess. His back bows enough after to let him throw his arms around Madara’s shoulders and bury his face into the Uchiha’s neck. Madara scoffs but is dazed enough to enjoy it before the atmosphere is ruined by cum and the smell of sweat. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Tobirama grunts when Madara finally pats his ribs, but slides off anyways. Mumbling curses like it wasn’t his fault that he didn’t pull off sooner to avoid discomfort. He is promptly ignored. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Madara sighs, deciding if it would be worth it to take a nap before he showered but then Tobirama is sliding out of their shared bed and sauntering towards their shared bathroom. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sage, those hips Madara ogles silently. He doesn’t bother to pretend he wasn’t when Tobirama looks over his shoulder. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He cocks a brow, “well, aren’t you coming Uchiha? Afraid you can’t go another round?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Madara is sliding out of bed then, grabbing a hair tie as he passes the dresser following his Senju into the bathroom. </em>
</p><p><em>And well, what can he say? Madara would never turn down an invitation like</em> that.</p><p> </p><p>“Our mother will save us.” Zetsu says, snapping his attention back to the real world.  Madara opens his eyes to the carnage spread across like waves in the sea. Obito is gone, somewhere, possibly being traitorous but Madara can’t find the energy to care. The brat can’t stop him. The shinobi below can’t stop him. The Senju brothers beneath his feat can’t stop him. Zetsu though.... </p><p>He burns Zetsu out of existence and when the Sage shows up, he laughs and calls the God Tree to life and watches it force the Sage back to wherever he came from. He makes the statue assume its form of the ten-tails and proceeds to lay waste to shinobi alliance. </p><p>Madara sighs out a breath, eyeing the cocoons that are stretched for miles. </p><p>“Soon.” He murmurs to no one. </p><p>Soon.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>oh madara. I hope some of y'all picked up the themes here with his imagination, good lord dude.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. But with the beast inside, there's nowhere we can hide</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>For ChimericColoratura who requested (3/3): "And definitely Hashirama waking up in the Gedo Mazo"</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Alexa, play Demons by Imagine Dragons</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He falls asleep, but this time there is no pleasant abyss, there is only awareness of the Other. He has no eyes to open, no fingers to feel, he spends much of his time believing he is not human, whoever he is. He is trapped everywhere and nowhere with only the company of words echoing somewhere around him, both too close and too far away. </p>
<p><em>“Don’t close your eyes” </em> This one’s familiar. He doesn’t know how many times he’s heard it nor what it’s supposed to mean. He has no eyes too close after all. The voice itself is male. Deep, a little rough, but intimately familiar to Hashirama. </p>
<p>Hashirama? He wonders, no that’s right, that’s  him.  Not the voice, but who he is, where ever he is. </p>
<p>The Other doesn’t like it when he remembers, gains conscious he thinks, and maybe that’s what the voice means when it says that. It wants him to fight it? Or maybe it’s completely coincidental. He flinches (or his mind says he does) when a roar echoes around him and Hashirama (because that’s him, that is who he is), tries to drown it out with the remembered phrases from before. </p>
<p>
  <em>“Everything will be okay” </em>
</p>
<p>Is it okay? He can’t tell. He can’t feel his hands or feet or body; all he feels is the tearing sensation. Like he himself has become the very paper he used to ball up and throw into the waste bin of the Hokage tower when he was frustrated. That’s another thing that warrants him a roar of outrage. It’s a slow process but Hashirama does figure out how to metaphorically whisper. His thoughts quiet and the Other quiets too. He regains awareness slowly and painfully; not ever truly sure how much time passes in the dark. </p>
<p>
  <em>“Okay Hashirama, you can rest now” </em>
</p>
<p>Rest, ha, Hashirama scoffs. Nothing about this is restful, he’s trapped, confused, he can’t see, can’t touch, can’t feel anything. Hashirama was always tactile in life. He threw his arm around his little brothers, he hugged and kissed his wife, he shook hands with clansman and villagers until he had to invest in hand lotion to avoid dry skin. Here he is aloft, alone, no one to speak to or for, adrift in a mindless sea of absolutely fucking nothing. </p>
<p>Well except for the Other. And whatever it is, it’s old, vicious and does not speak any language Hashirama has ever heard. It roars at his thoughts as if they are an intrusion. It tears at his soul if he tries to consolidate together. It pushes back any positive feelings he tries to send its way in an effort of peace. </p>
<p>He is trapped, yes, but he also <em>learning. </em>The monster that grips his soul loosens when someone approaches. A figure beyond Hashirama’s blocked senses but appears consistently  nonetheless. </p>
<p>During that time, those moments between the deafening silences, Hashirama constructs a shield. </p>
<p>
  <em><br/>“Husband, what do you know about seals” Mito asks casually. She’s at the low table in the living room, drawing a painting that will hang on their wall. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The very protection seals on their house will be drawn into a painting of Fox Glove, Witch Hazel, and Peonies. The symbolism is not lost on Hashirama. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Not much,” he says honestly, “What you’ve showed me, mostly, and what Tobirama messes with.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Mito smiles, “That’s more than most people,” She compliments, “What do you know about shields?” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Not wards?” Hashirama asks, eyes flickering down to where her brush strokes out the delicate hooded lines of a Digitalis Foxglove. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“They are similar,” she admits stopping her stroke to look up at Hashirama where he’s lounging at the kitchen counter, “if wards protect the home, then shields protect the people.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Hashirama considers that, idly twirling one of Mito’s newly fixed hair tags in hand. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I don’t think I understand.” He says instead. Not to say he doesn’t get it, but he doesn’t see the importance of differentiating the two. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Mito tilts her head a bit, eyes drifting before coming back, “if wards protect the body, then shields protect the soul.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“A shield against torture?” Hashirama asks, standing and strolling back over to his wife. She lets him attach the tag back on its clip and she doesn’t protest when he sits behind her, wrapping large arms around a battle fit waist. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“It could be,” she agrees, “But it could be more too.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Mito looks back and considers Hashirama carefully, “Let me teach you.” <br/></em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>So Hashirama crafts a shield, slowly pushing whatever lurks beyond him to the metaphorical other side of the room. When the figure comes, distracting the Other, he takes the time to build his shield out of willpower and spite and does not falter when the beast pushes and tears his first hundred or so tries. </p>
<p>Hashirama is patient though, a shinobi when he needs to be even if he’d rather be a friend, father, or neighbor. Him and the Other become, for all intents and purposes, two children banished to separate sides of the room to think about what they’ve done. </p>
<p>Hashirama stitches holes, patches breaks, until eventually, the deafening roar sounds no louder than the Nakano River from the Nara lands. </p>
<p>White noise. Something Hashirama can rest too and keep his shield from being torn to nothing. Keep his soul from being ripped in two. </p>
<p>Hashirama still can’t see, and he can’t feel further than his little bubble without consequences, but it does finally let him <em>hear </em>clearly and— </p>
<p>The figure, Hashirama knows now, is <em>speaking</em> and its voice matches the one that’s echoing around his mindscape</p>
<p>Madara. His old friend that shouldn’t have been alive and yet here he is. Alive enough to speak, alive enough to catch Hashirama when he fell through loose ground, alive enough to apparently throw away any morals he may have had and trap Hashirama into… wherever he is. </p>
<p>Hashirama doesn’t know how to feel about this. For the most part, he listens to Madara out of curiosity rather than focusing on any why. It keeps his shields in tack, not thinking too much passes time quicker, so Hashirama tries to focus on only the present and pretend he doesn't mind.  </p>
<p>(he minds a lot, actually, but there is also some part of Hashirama that’s happy for any sort of interaction. Anything that gives him a sense of something in that pitch black of nothing.) </p>
<p>And Madara talks about everything and anything. A loose tongue like he didn’t have in life. Or, his first life. Or his not!life if they are in some purgatory and not actually alive at all. Hashirama is pretty sure he knows that’s not the case but he also can’t think too hard on any one thing and he also can’t <em>see</em> to confirm anything so, for now, he simply listens and absorbs what he knows for later. </p>
<p>He doesn’t last. When Madara tells him of his brothers’ fate... he grieves and the thing on the other side the room takes advantage, reaching a hand through a hole in his shield and <em>tearing. </em></p>
<p>Hashirama ends back in square one, though pettily, he’s pretty sure he somehow got the Other to roar out loud and scare the shit out of Madara too. It may take him years beyond that point to lift up his shields again, but for the brief satisfaction of somehow scaring his old friend, he considers it worth it. </p>
<p>He doesn’t know how long passes, but Madara’s voice changes, his deep scratchy baritone shifts to something old and wheezy the next time Hashirama can fully hear him for more than a brief few seconds. The Other learned Hashirama’s tricks the first time, and keeping his mental shields up and the Other out was trickier. It gave him something to do, beyond think of his dead brother, and dead wife, and village that is decades on and still involved in wars. He is not grateful but he acknowledges that a lesser man would have given in by now. </p>
<p>His unrelenting nature has finally come in handy. (Take that Butsuma.)</p>
<p>A younger voice joins Madara and Hashirama doesn’t quite understand the pull that he feels with the young boy until a Bijuu comes and joins him. </p>
<p>Kokou gives him freedom, repairs his shields, stitches his tears and shows him how to <em>see. </em></p>
<p>It is apparently very much like the inner mindscape the bijuu share to communicate. </p>
<p>So Hashirama watches, learns how to push out the soul of the ten tails(!) and constructs a body and eyes and feeling out of his very chakra. </p>
<p>Hashirama breathes, despite not needing too and smiles despite not having anything to smile about. Madara is dead by this point and his successor uses Hashirama's DNA and jutsu to cause mischief across the country but…</p>
<p>Kokou humors him, as do the other bijuu who join. They forgive because otherwise they’d be with the Ten Tails and not behind Hashirama’s shields. </p>
<p>(Hashirama is also, he finds out later from Kokou, incredibly hard not to forgive. Apparently Hashirama reminds the Bijuu of the Sage in certain ways. Remind them of his sons. Hashirama never knows what he should make of that, as he tries to explain that even if they don’t forgive him, he’d still let them behind his shield. The bijuu always scoff. They are old creatures, and run by the logic of an eye for an eye. Hashirama sealed them yes, but he is protecting them now. If they ever get out, Hashirama will move on to the pure lands and they will reform in the real world. Hashirama is but a footnote to them, it is the present they need to deal with. </p>
<p>Now stop crying, please, Matatabi says earnestly. Hashirama stops, but only because he really wants to tell her about Tobirama and how much they’d get along.)</p>
<p>It has been decades, but not a day goes by that Hashirama does not send a mental thank you to his wife for her knowledge. </p>
<p>Alone no more, he waits.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>this chapter doubled in length when I went to edit it, funny that. Hashirama, sorry bby, ily, but you definitely repented for way more than your mistakes by suffering through all that nonsense. The phrases he remembers is the last stuff Madara said to him in fic 2 before he turned into a tree btw.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. This is the wave that crests Red</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Cherryberry12 requested: Uzumaki mito</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>have an edotensei!Mito, cherry :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mito opens her eyes to a sea of destruction and the sharp cries of people screaming in the streets. Around her debris lies in lines that wrap around into a spiral; she is the epicenter.  In her moment of clarity, she feels an undeniable pang of regret and then, much more clearer, a moment of absolute undying rage before a sea of red crashes back down on top of her. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The control seal however, has a fault line. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Mito, in that moment is unspeakably glad she once sealed the nine tailed fox inside her. Here she stands, inside her mind where the fox once slept. Golden gates are thrown wide and the seal that used to hold them shut gone, but here, she is separate from control seal that’s wracking her body. Here, she can see the glimmer of something that doesn’t belong. </p>
<p>With a thought the mind scape changes from a cramped prison to the ocean rocks of Uzushio. Standing on the cliff side of her home-no-more is both nostalgic and saddening. She hadn’t thought her home island would ever fall but when Hiruzen came personally to her door, something he hadn’t done since Tobirama had died, she knew immediately what happened. </p>
<p>She never forgave Konoha completely. Not really. Her husbands and Uchiha Madara’s dream is something bigger than life, and absolutely beautiful in comparison to the war torn era they lived in before but... if going back to war meant getting Uzushio and its people back, Mito would choose Uzushio without a second thought. </p>
<p>She raises an arm out and the break in the seal opens like a chasm to her fingers and strong mind. Half the power of any seal is intent, she used to tell Kushina. Even if your lines end up faulty if you believe it will work, you might still end up in tack afterwards. </p>
<p>It is, Mito muses, probably the reason the Uzumaki clan did not go extinct in the first years of making her craft. One of her ancestors sealed the most dangerous volcanos around her island after all, and according to the records, that took several attempts. </p>
<p>With a deep breath, she closes her eyes, <em>reaches</em>, and when she opens them it’s to Konoha again. </p>
<p>Her body feels weird, as if she was wearing a muffler and she immediately draws her arms back to her sides, breaking the chain of hand signs that may have turned into a devastating katon jutsu. </p>
<p>“Mito-sama?” Somebody asks. She doesn’t recognize the voice but when she turns her head, an elder Akimichi with red ovals under his eyes is looking up at her from the ground in awe. </p>
<p>His hands shrink back to normal size. </p>
<p>“Torifu” Mito says pleasantly, “you’re old!” </p>
<p>Torifu snorts, “so it seems Lady Mito. I am glad you seem to be control? I think I’m too old to fight you in your prime.” </p>
<p>Mito blinks looking down at her hands again. They are cracked, she realizes, not wrinkled as she thought before. Of course her brother-in-law wouldn’t bring people back old, that simply wouldn’t do would it. </p>
<p>She looks back to the Sandaime’s teammate, “Where am I needed?” </p>
<p>Torifu grimaces where he’s waving shinobi off, <em>threat averted</em>, “well, sensei’s alive, though I imagine Hiruzen is regretting sealing the fourth Hokage’s grave instead of Tobirama’s but that’s the current status last I checked.” </p>
<p>“The fourth Hokage?” Mito asks curiously, hopping off the roof of what was once a tailor’s shop. </p>
<p>“Namikaze Minato,” Torifu answers, gesturing to the mountain, “if I’m honest, he was probably the greater threat then Tobirama-sensei but...” </p>
<p>“But Tobirama knows how Hiruzen fights” Mito guesses, throwing a glowing chakra chain up into the air to grab the ankle of a Suna shinobi lunging at a Konoha shinobi, “or because Hiruzen is having a hard time fighting Tobirama when the last he saw of him was a dead body, that was covered in dried blood and already rotting.” </p>
<p>Torifu winces, “I see death has not dimmed your betting prowess, Lady Mito.” </p>
<p>Mito shrugs, scanning the sky and ally ways for any more rogue nin taking advantage of the chaos, “I had to make up for my husband, you see. He placed all his bets on Konoha itself, and couldn’t bet on anything else because of it.” </p>
<p>There are a few snickers at that (and not just from Torifu) that Mito lets herself feel amused on her late husband’s behalf as shes lead down another side street and onto a nearby roof where, in the distance, a barrier seal is raised and inside Hiruzen is fighting his former sensei. </p>
<p>Mito stops a second and considers the scene... </p>
<p>“My husband was not brought back?” she asks. </p>
<p>Tobirama is strong yes, and if Torifu considers the fourth a better threat then her brother in law he must be very capable too. However, her husband had mokuton and chakra reserves that were only rivaled by Madara and only outmatched by a Bijuu. </p>
<p>“Something happened,” Torifu starts, rubbing his cheek, “I wasn’t there for it so I can only tell you second handedly that apparently the jutsu failed to bring back Lord First. Orochimaru was surprised even, and you were the backup.” </p>
<p>Torifu pauses then, and it’s enough of one to have Mito looking over and raising an eyebrow. </p>
<p>“And?” She asks </p>
<p>“Well, Hiruzen was very outmatched. You sort of kicked his ass enough that Orochimaru thought you’d do better outside the barrier rather than within. Hence why you’re out here and Tobirama-sensei is in there still. He must of figured Tobirama could cause enough humiliation and you could cause the damage.” </p>
<p>Ah, Mito realizes, I see. </p>
<p>She doesn’t look back to the swirling patterns of her destruction behind her, but it does settle in her chest next to something alongside guilt. </p>
<p>“Lady Mito?” Torifu asks </p>
<p>“Yes?” </p>
<p>“Your husband... why he wasn’t pulled back, do you think—“ </p>
<p>“I think,” Mito interrupts with, because she knows where this going, “ that Tobirama cared very much about the possibility of his brothers grave being robbed, more so than the possibility of his own.” </p>
<p>It’s a lie, but Torifu relaxes minutely. Her husband didn’t have a grave, not one with his body in it anyways, and the village believed that Hashirama passed away due to health complications. </p>
<p>Cancer, was what was whispered the most, and Mito could never really argue that. Mokuton was truly something else. </p>
<p>Mito wonders idly, as she leaps off the roof towards the barrier to free her brother in law, if Orochimaru did have any DNA of Hashirama or if he just tried to use Tobirama’s DNA and that’s why it failed. </p>
<p>She wonders which answer she would prefer more. The grief and rage that would come with the first, or the implications of the second. </p>
<p>She wonders if, when she rejoins the afterlife, she’ll get the memories of kicking Hiruzen’s ass back. </p>
<p>She hopes so, especially since when she lands just outside the barrier, Hiruzen blanches before diving out of the way of another water blast. </p>
<p>If Orochimaru takes the defensive after she arrives, well, it’s his fault for reviving her from the dead in the first place.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>dont y'all dare sleep on mito</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. immortalized to be</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>deleted ending + short bonus scene.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>okay this was the chapter that was supposed to be the last one on the last Installment but I never added it cause it seemed to me like Madara was just forgiven instantly and that’s just.... not the case. I never did rework it (meaning its my writing from like a year ago so sorry bout that) but I don’t want to stare at it anymore. consider it an au of this au if you must haha </p>
<p>plus the bonus short scene ! which was too short to stand by itself imo so i just stuck it here.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Madara gives himself a moment to make sure every person remains in the tree, that every reanimated shinobi is left a pile of ash once more, before he finally looks back to the ten-tails beneath his feet. </p>
<p>He briefly feels out the different chakras. The acidic washes of white, and purple flames of hell are the hardest to get past but when he does, he can just nearly feel the verdant signature green and deep ocean blue of Hashirama and Tobirama. </p>
<p>He swears for just moment he can feel an answer to his chakra prodding before the mix of bijuu chakra intercepts leaving him standing alone atop one of the only living things left walking. </p>
<p>Madara lets all three of his eyes close and the wind ruffle stark white hair away from his face. Now that it’s completed, now that he stands alone, even Obito caught up into the roots, surely dreaming of a better world by now, he feels undeniably empty. </p>
<p>It’s completed. </p>
<p>He’s done. </p>
<p>He’s saved the world. </p>
<p>Now all he has to do is save himself. He spares a glance for the ten tails one more time. He should free them, release the Senju brothers souls and the bijuu once more but—</p>
<p>But he honest to sage has no idea how. Burst through it? The ten tails isn’t at full power but it’s undoubtably alive. Madara is a sage, not even might guy could beat him (though he was very close) but that doesn’t </p>
<p>Someone who does though... well... the sage will be back eventually. The Shinigami no doubt will join him, for little brothers follow loyally like that. </p>
<p>Madara knows that more than anyone. </p>
<p>“This was right” he says to himself, staring out at the carnage he’s sown. </p>
<p>Just over his right shoulder, just out of his vision he swears he hears Tobirama scoff. He doesn’t say anything and Madara doesn’t ask, instead tilting his head toward his left shoulder where there’s a faint sigh. Hashirama. </p>
<p>It isn’t really happening, Madara rationalizes to himself, they aren’t here, he won. </p>
<p>“We’ve finally done it, Hashirama.” Madara says anyways, “peace, for everyone. No corruption in your dreams. This is the way.” </p>
<p>Not!hashirama hums. </p>
<p>“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” He asks and Madara isn’t given a chance to bristle before Tobirama snorts. </p>
<p>“He’s trying to convince Izuna.” Tobirama says mercilessly </p>
<p>Madara grits his teeth pounding his chakra through his system and deciding right then and there if he doesn’t remove himself from the situation, he’s going to do something he doesn’t like. </p>
<p>So he jumps. </p>
<p>He lets himself step off and fall to the ground, the roots nearby are already reaching but it’s not until he steps off a raised piece of ground and into a particularly beautiful flower, does he let himself slouch. </p>
<p>He lets himself cave in, the flower close, the pollen that’s thick and yellow fill his nose and cover his eyelashes until all he can feel is like somebody stuffed his body with cotton balls and covered him in pillows. </p>
<p>There’s a particular floating feeling, as he finally lets his eyes close and the flashes silvery white hair and steals of red and blue take him under. </p>
<p>In no time at all he’s waking back up. There’s whites and blues and it takes him a second to realize he’s looking at a clear sky. </p>
<p>Sitting up is easier, no aches, no pains, no strange robs that are apparently the norm for sages. </p>
<p>His vision has gone from trifold to bifocals once more. </p>
<p>Black hair rolls over his shoulders. </p>
<p>A voice calls out his name, and he looks over his shoulder, Izuna his waving at him from a house. He’s dangerously close to a koi pond and Madara has the childish urge to throw him in because that’s what he did…does? </p>
<p>“Madara?” Another voice calls, it’s softer but no less deep and baritone and the question there is so deeply familiar that Madara can’t help but turn his eyes away from his littlest little brother to look up into Sharingan red eyes and the face of all his sorrows. </p>
<p>“Is everything okay?” Tobirama asks. </p>
<p>Madara swallows, he should say no, say that Tobirama is dead and he killed Izuna, and he shouldn’t feel Mokuton green chakra barreling towards him followed more casually by Uzumaki red. </p>
<p>He was never friends with Mito. Tobirama never cared to ask if he was okay, because he clearly never was, and Izuna— </p>
<p>Izuna is dead. </p>
<p>Madara smiles and he knows it’s gone a little wired on the edges for all that not!Tobirama takes a step back. He laughs, and has to bend over and clutch his stomach a bit before leaning back up to wipe tears from his eyes. </p>
<p>He stands and brushes off this other Tobirama’s concern because it’s not him at all. He just talked to him. </p>
<p>Of course, Madara would be too damn stubborn to let himself be taken by the genjutsu. Of course, he would recognize false memories being placed inside his head the moment it happened. Of fucking course, he would be stuck in a place where everything he’s ever wanted comes true and he can’t even enjoy it with the memories of reality booming over his head. </p>
<p>He wonders if everyone is suffering like he is but knows that to be untrue. Tobirama has called him a contrary fucker enough times for the truth to sink around him like a well-loved cloak. </p>
<p>He hates it but he stares up at the too blue too perfect sky and watches it ripple and warp, and ignores the calls of panic behind him. He ignores the so familiar yet so fake deep-spring-fed chakra that he would get lost in if he had a semblance less control of himself. </p>
<p>He watches the sky turn purple and he swears he sees rings before everything goes from dark to white to yellow and before he knows it, he’s lying on his back again and opening his eyes once more. </p>
<p>There’s no shock of brilliant pearl colored hair to greet him and no perfect blue sky. This time he’s under a canopy of tree and Madara languidly pulls himself to sit against a sturdy oak tree and before closing his eyes. </p>
<p>Unsure of the passing time, it isn’t long until he hears deliberate footsteps and a body flopping down beside him. </p>
<p>He consciously matches his breathing towards the other person, hoping for the best and the worst when he opens his eyes again. </p>
<p>His little brother still has his eyes in the trees when Madara turns his head. </p>
<p>He looks better, long black hair pulled in his signature low pony, free of matts and tangles. He’s not sick and gaunt and covered in sweat from where his body so desperately tried to fight off the wound and following infection. He looks... good and Madara all of a sudden, the first time in decades really, feels indescribably nervous. </p>
<p>“Izuna.” Madara acknowledges, willing the unsureness out of his voice. </p>
<p>Izuna hums and brings his eyes back down to the ground and turns towards him. His eye sockets are full, his cheeks have a healthy flush, and he doesn’t look a day older than Madara last saw him. </p>
<p>It takes a work of a second to pull Izuna and himself to a standing position so Madara can hug the shit out of him. </p>
<p>He feels the hug returned with a sort of contained fever but he couldn’t give a shit because he has missed his little brother so very much. </p>
<p>By the time Madara pulls back, Izuna looks at him curiously, and Madara nearly curses because is this a dream too? Did the god tree change it to match his needs? Is this Izuna fake and wrong and not his little brother? </p>
<p>Izuna smiles then, and all the worries melt away because the smile is mean and perfect and Madara doesn’t even get to see the fist coming before he’s landing on his back again several yards away. </p>
<p>“Well, nii-san!” Madara’s own personal voice of doom calls, “it took you for fucking ever to get here so that’s for being absolutely late as usual.” </p>
<p>Madara clicks his jaw back into motion before sitting up and watching Izuna effortlessly make his way over to Madara. </p>
<p>“I’m sure you’ve got a perfectly good excuse.” Izuna finishes pointedly, staring down at Madara like their mother used to when she particularly incensed. </p>
<p>“Ah” Madara starts, “I’ve been busy.” </p>
<p>It’s the excuse he used to give when he met Hashirama in secret, and Izuna’s eyebrow twitches at the admission that he was doing something he knew he shouldn’t have being doing but was most definitely saying fuck it and doing it anyways. </p>
<p>Or more accurately, was ignoring the consequences of something particularly dangerous for whatever escape he could manage. </p>
<p>Izuna, like before, seems to give no shits. </p>
<p>“Busy” he repeats flatly, “I’m sure this sort of busy has nothing to do with any bijuu or mythical trees and definitely not the moon, right?”  </p>
<p>“Of course not, Otouto.” Madara responds fluidly. Like the illicit meetings he had as a 12-year-old, denial is Madara’s best friend. </p>
<p>Izuna however is not pleased for all he stretches a hand out to help Madara off his ass. </p>
<p>“I missed you” Izuna says strongly.” I missed you a lot, for all you’ve done a lot of stupid shit while you were left unsupervised.” </p>
<p>Madara waits patiently despite the urge to resume playful banter. Feelings he hasn’t let himself feel in forever, and they’re flooding back if not at the same pace as the ranging current of a river.</p>
<p>“There’s some other people too who want to see you but” Izuna pauses to look over Madara, “you look like shit.” </p>
<p>Madara snorts, “thanks, Izuna.” </p>
<p>Izuna rolls his eyes but continues on, “you should take a nap, let the time pass a bit, and then tackle talking to people.” </p>
<p>“Time is your friend instead of you enemy here, so just, don’t go walking up to people, yeah?” </p>
<p>Madara watches Izuna flounce a bit for some politer words but Madara wave him off to find a sunny spot in the trees. </p>
<p>When he lays down, Izuna is there humming a tune and Madara thinks soon. </p>
<p>Soon he can see white and red and blue. </p>
<p>Soon he can see verdant green and jasmine teal. </p>
<p>Soon he can see every little brother he’s missed so dearly. </p>
<p>He lets the darkness wash over once more and trusts that when soon can become Now, Izuna will wake him up again. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>.<br/>
.........<br/>
................</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh for fucks sake.” Tobirama says watching Madara step down and welcome the creeping vines catch and drag him to sleep.</p>
<p>“Good riddance,” Kurama grumbles from his perch on top of Isobu’s shell. Tobirama didn’t see that exchange take place and refuses to ask for clarification</p>
<p>“He just left us here!” Tobirama snaps back. </p>
<p>“Yup!” Hashirama chirps in agreement where he’s sitting on one of Matatabi’s paws, “what an asshole.” </p>
<p>“The worst,” Tobirama agrees easily, silently wishing it didn’t take Hashirama decades to see it and then, “now what.” </p>
<p>Silence echoes in the shared mindscape. </p>
<p>“Well,” Gyuki murmurs, “I guess we wait.” </p>
<p>“Wait?” Tobirama asks, though he already knows it to be true, “for the Sage? The Shinigami? Some unlucky survivor?” </p>
<p>Chomei shifts, outer shell of hers shifting with her, “yes,” she says quietly </p>
<p>“We wait for the sage.”</p>
<p>Hashirama doesn’t say anything, not wanting to ruin the mood further but he knows how inhuman beings’ sense of time works. </p>
<p>He’s had decades to figure out that they don’t. Not really. </p>
<p>Tobirama reads the look on his face anyways. </p>
<p>“Well fuck.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>-Madara is NOT forgiven but Izuna can recognize crazy from a mile away and knows when to put that down for a nap. What I’m saying is Madara has rampant toddler energy and Izuna is an exasperated day care worker, I don’t make the rules. </p>
<p>gai, just out of madara's view, waving at izuna: i await my youthful rematch with your brother!!! <br/>izuna, who just put an overpowered niisan down for nap: okay!!! but like not right now though!!!!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>-also this is the second time i have Izuna punching madara in the face in one of my fics and i have ZERO regrets on that so</p>
<p> </p>
<p>tobirama to the bijuu: you're seriously going to sit there???? and do nothing????<br/>the bijuu to tobirama: yeah? no shit???</p>
<p>hashirama and saiken, probably: at least we have each other! :D </p>
<p>thanks for reading!! xoxo dee</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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